Page 106 of Saint Céline
I wanted to touch her.
“You’re right,” I said at last.
She looked startled.
I moved around the desk, slowly enough not to crowd her.
“They were yours.”
Her face tightened as if she did not trust the concession. Smart girl.
“And yet you came here,” I said.
“I have lab.” Her jaw set.
“Not for another forty minutes.”
“You are so unbearable.”
“Frequently, and only for you.”
Her mouth trembled with the effort not to say something else. I wondered if she had slept. I wondered if Miss Astoria hadcurled herself against Céline’s stomach in the night and whether the animal had noticed the difference in her breathing after the breakup. I wondered if her friends had watched her too closely this morning, if Sophia had said something careful and Anya something dramatic to cover the fear.
I wondered far too much. I needed her to move in with me so I could study her all the time. She was still performing at the dorm. I needed her by my side so she could be who she needed to be.
“I broke up with him because you forced me,” she said. “Not because I chose you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think you do.” She stepped closer again, and this time the anger between us changed shape. “You think if you remove everything else, I’ll eventually turn toward you because there’s nowhere left to go.”
“Will you? I can give you more than Thad ever could.” I held her gaze.
The question hung between us. Her breath caught, and there was no hiding it this close. For one second, neither of us moved. The office felt too warm despite the rain outside. Too small. The air carried the faint scent of her Dior perfume under damp wool and something softer beneath that, sleep perhaps, or the cat, or the ordinary human warmth she worked so hard to make elegant.
“No,” she said.
The lie was defensive and beautiful. I loved everything about her too much.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” I smiled faintly.
Her eyes narrowed, but the colour rose beneath her skin.
“I don’t belong to you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Stop agreeing with me like that.”
She made a frustrated sound and turned away, pacing once toward the window. The rain had blurred the campus into grey shapes beyond the glass. From this height, Bellamont looked almost peaceful.
Céline looked down at the courtyard.
“He looked so hurt,” she said.
